Page 102 of The Highland Laird’s Hellion Bride

Elspeth looked at him, her burned hands curved against his face, ash on her cheek. “I love ye too,” she said. “And ye’re bleedin’ on me gown.”

He looked down. He was.

“Aye,” he said.

“Let’s go home, Magnus.”

He took her hand, careful of the burns, and didn’t let go of it. Not when he called for his men, not when they brought the horses, not once on the long ride back to Ben Cruachan and everything waiting there.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

She could feel his hands through the plaid.

That was the first thing she was aware of, after the cold air, the smell of heather, and the steady movement of the horse beneath her. His arms were resting around her waist, clasped together at her front, and every few minutes, they tightened slightly. Not much. Just enough that she felt it.

She said nothing about it.

She leaned back in his arms and watched the hills turn to soft hues of gold ahead of them, grey fading away at the eastern edge. She pondered on the fact that she was alive and warm and going home, and that the man holding her had said I love ye with his hands shaking and blood soaking through his sleeve.

She pressed her fingers over his clasped ones.

His arms tightened again. He did not speak. She felt his warm breath fan the top of her head.

“Yer arm,” she half-asked.

“It’s fine.” He smiled.

“Ye said that already.”

“Still fine.”

“Magnus, it needs to be taken care of.”

“When we’re home.” His chin dropped briefly to the top of her head. “When we’re home, Elspeth.”

She closed her mouth, looked at the hills, and felt his arms tighten once more. She turned her hands over beneath his and held them properly, and he let her do so without objection.

That told her more than anything he had ever said.

Ben Cruachan appeared over the last ridge as the sun cleared the eastern hill. Its stone walls caught the first proper light of the morning, and Elspeth felt her chest tighten at the sight of it.

Three weeks ago, she had looked up at those walls and seen a prison. This morning, she looked at them and thought: home.

The courtyard was full.

A sea of faces was the first thing she saw as they came through the gate. It seemed that every soul on the estate had decided that the courtyard was where they needed to be at this particular hour. They had brought the dogs with them, and someone had brought Morag, who was still wearing one of her wedding ribbons.

Duncan spotted them first. He was standing near the gate with Liam and four of the guards, and when he saw Magnus’s horse come through, he uttered a short and sharp word to Liam and hurried across the yard. His pace could not quite be described as running, but he was making his best effort to be quick while maintaining his composure.

He stopped at the horse’s head and looked up at Elspeth. Then at Magnus. Then back at Elspeth.

“Ye found her,” he said.

“Aye,” Magnus uttered.

Duncan pressed his lips together hard for a moment, looked away at the gate, then back. “O’Brien?”

“Dead.”